My incredible 6-year-old daughter has ARFID – Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. It’s a relatively new and often misunderstood eating disorder, only officially recognised in 2013. ARFID doesn’t mean being “fussy.” It stems from fear, sensory overwhelm, and deep-rooted aversions that make eating extremely difficult.

Children with ARFID may only tolerate a handful of foods – sometimes fewer than ten. Children with ARFID often insist on specific brands, reject certain textures or temperatures, or eat foods only in particular situations. Some children can’t even be in the same room as a non-preferred food without gagging or retching.

For our family, ARFID has shaped our daughter’s condition began shaping our daily lives when she was around 18 months old.. Even as a baby, feeding was a struggle – she had reflux, resisted bottles, and never seemed to enjoy food. We thought it was just a phase, but things steadily worsened.

By two years old, she was only eating cereal three times a day.

“They’re Just Fussy”

We thought so too at first. Many children go through neophobia – a fear of new foods – but typically, this resolves with time and exposure. That wasn’t the case for our daughter.

Once she stopped accepting a food, it was gone for good. New foods triggered intense emotional reactions – crying, running away, even refusing to enter the kitchen. When we first sought help, we were sent a generic leaflet about fussy eating. That response disheartened us and made us feel even more alone.

It took us five years to access the right kind of support – through a feeding charity that understood ARFID. My advice: trust your instincts. You know your child best.

“If They’re Hungry, They’ll Eat”

This is probably the most common (and hurtful) myth we’ve encountered. With ARFID, hunger doesn’t override fear. I’ve tried the “she’ll eat when she’s hungry” approach – and it only led to skipped meals and distress.

These children aren’t choosing not to eat. Their bodies and minds are reacting with fear and anxiety. We had to let go of ideals around nutrition and focus on calories for survival, not pleasure. ARFID isn’t a result of “giving in” – it’s a condition that requires patience, therapy, and empathy.

“They Look Healthy, So It’s Fine”

ARFID doesn’t always affect weight in predictable ways. Some children are underweight, some are average, and others may be overweight due to a diet limited to high-calorie, low-nutrient foods.

Since our daughter falls in the lower end of the healthy range, mental health services once told us to come back if she lost more weight. But weight alone doesn’t reflect the nutritional deficits or emotional impact ARFID causes.

Children can appear “fine” while being malnourished, anaemic, or developmentally delayed. ARFID needs to be taken seriously regardless of body size.

“They’ll Grow Out of It”

This might be true for picky eaters – but not for those with ARFID. Without support, ARFID can persist into adulthood, affecting relationships, work, and daily life in a food-centric world.

There is hope. Feeding therapy can help – but access is limited and services are scarce in the UK. We’re lucky to finally be receiving support through a feeding clinic.

We now attend feeding therapy every couple of months. It’s changed our approach and our outlook. We no longer use subjective words like “yummy” or “nice” – instead, we describe food factually: “It’s orange, it’s crunchy, it tastes sweet.”

This gives our daughter a sense of predictability and reduces fear. We’ve also learned to celebrate small steps – being near a new food, touching it, smelling it, or just letting it stay on the plate.

Recently, my daughter ate a single floret of broccoli. I cried with joy. Something that once felt completely out of reach became a reality. We still struggle, but it no longer feels impossible.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “This sounds like my child,” please listen to that voice. Trust your gut.

We knew early on that something wasn’t right. People made us feel overanxious, even blamed us. Looking back, I wish we had pushed harder sooner.

ARFID isn’t caused by bad parenting. It’s a recognised, serious disorder – and children need compassion, not judgment.

We’re still at the beginning of our journey, but we finally feel supported. I hope this post shows at least one parent they’re not alone and helps others understand how complex ARFID truly is.

We need greater awareness, earlier diagnosis, and accessible treatment. Until then, the best thing we can all do is be kind, be curious, and withhold judgment.

Because sometimes, just eating a bite of broccoli is a massive victory – and that deserves to be celebrated.